


goodnight, my someone

by transvav



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Gen, Kidnapping, Psychological and physical torture, Torture, Unresolved, anyways i hate this im so sorry @my boy, bad times lads, what a deal!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:09:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10604208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/pseuds/transvav
Summary: Sometimes, Gavin wondered.It was easy to be laughed at, but the crew loved him, he knew.He hoped.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i murder a boy

Sometimes, Gavin wondered.

It was easy to be laughed at, in the crew. All of them had the same type of humor and they each loved to poke fun at each other because that was what families did. And he understood that he was easy to poke fun at. He liked to play that up for them, make himself an easy target. A scapegoat, a fool, that shining beacon of  _ come look at how stupid I am!  _ It worked a lot for him to be the distraction and the one to leave behind.

And sometimes it worked too well.

Gavin had had his assortment of kidnappings- for ransom, for information, for grudges and whatever stupidities the various other crews would take him for. Sometimes he’d get someone with him- Michael, or Jack, and very lately Jeremy would be there. Most of the time he was alone, though. He didn’t mind being alone. In the penthouse it was loud and overbearing at times. He didn’t like to admit it but sometimes there were wounds that they cut into that were touches too deep. The crew loved him, he knew.

He hoped.

 

It started on a job, on a heist, in the middle of May.

For some reason it was raining, the water thudding against the full glass windows in the living room, casting shadows across the place that filled the penthouse with a sense of dread. Not that it mattered much. Every heist Gavin wasn’t a part of made him anxious and worried- he had his com in to listen to the others, but didn’t bother saying anything or starting a conversation. It wasn’t because he was afraid of distracting them. He just knew they wouldn’t hear him.

A couple days ago there’d been an incident that he’d taken the blame for. The crew still hadn’t forgiven him for it, and he’d spent long periods of time in his room avoiding their wrath. They ignored him when he’d come out for food, casting seething looks at him whenever he did. He was okay with it for the moment. Quiet was quiet, and if they let him be then he got his quiet. They would come around eventually.

So he sat in the relative silence, the occasional chatter and commands from the others spilling through and becoming a background noise. His fingers twitched occasionally as if they were typing away on a keyboard. But his part was done. He let his head roll back onto the couch and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Behind him, the door unlocked and opened, and against the heavy rain a pair of footsteps went unheard as the assailant crept up behind the hacker. 

When a hand pressed itself against his neck, Gavin’s eyes shot open to see a dark skull mask looming dangerously over him. Confusion flooded his mind as he struggled against the grip, desperately trying to pry the hands from his neck. In his fight he managed to kick over the bottle of vodka on the table-  _ shit,  _ he thought, but it wasn’t his priority to worry about the glass that he’d shattered. That skull was still staring blankly down at him, the eyes behind the mask rimmed with dark oily paint and sharper than knives. He couldn’t focus- it was so hard to breathe-

“Ry- an- ple-” he choked out, breathless, but his voice shattered into a scream as he felt an unexpected pierce of cold metal through his arm. Right- he was being choked one handed. And now there was a knife being driven through his right arm. He could feel his own blood drip on to the expensive leather couch, and his last thought before everything faded ended up being  _ shit, now Geoff’s gonna be really pissed at me _ .

 

He was woken up again by another sharp pain, this time to his left foot- as he forced himself to focus, he slowly took in his current predicament. He was shoeless and shirtless but his sunglasses had been left on his nose, and the entire room, dark enough as it had been, was cast in a gold tinted shade that made Gavin even more nauseous than he really was. 

There was a figure crouching in front of him, watching him through a hockey mask, gauging his reaction. A chuckled echoed as he shifted and the figure moved closer, taking out a knife and tapping it up against his chin, digging slightly into the skin there.

“Good morning, Mr. Free,” they said, and he tried to lean away- they laughed again, and the knife moved closer. “Don’t be like that now, boi.”

His breath hitched and he fought through the haze of pain to get a closer look at the captor. Curly brown red hair and a thick brown leather jacket and a wedding band on left hand. Beneath the mask, the eyes narrowed and he knew the man was smirking. “So you’re finally getting it, huh Gav?”

“Michael,” he whispered, trying to move his hand. “Michael, please, what did I do wrong?”

The pain in his foot flared back up again and he choked out a cry. Gavin had never had much of a pain tolerance especially not this time.  _ It’s Michael _ , his mind supplied.  _ That just makes it fucking worse _ .

“What the fuck do you think you did, you stupid piece of shit?” Michael moved the blade and placed it against Gavin’s cheek, slowly pressing the metal down. Gavin felt the blood start to run down his cheek. “You fuck  _ everything  _ up. Always. We don’t want a  _ fuckup  _ on our team, Gavvy.”

He suddenly slashed the blade away and made the cut deep- iron filled his nose and his face was wet with blood. It made him wanna be sick.   
So he was. He threw up on himself and sobbed as Michael continued making cuts along his left arm despite it. Drove the knifepoint deep into certain parts of his stomach, avoiding major areas, but leaving a hell of a bloodtrail.

After what felt like an eternity, Michael pulled away and shoved the knife back into Gavin’s foot once more. “It’s like a placeholder,” he giggled, and slapped Gavin’s cheek a few times, making Gavin cry out. “Don’t go to sleep yet. Not everyone’s had their chance.”

Gavin sobbed at the thought of more and Michael’s laugh echoed around him. “See you soon, Gavvy.”

He was left alone in a dizzying silence, his blood pooling around him with his vomit, every cut stinging and every move sending terrible shocks of pain through him.

 

Jack came in and dressed his wounds. Never said a word- didn’t bother to mock him, or yell at him- nothing. In his haze it was hard to see facial features or anything specific. But Gavin knew he was angry and it  _ hurt _ that he was doing nothing.

He washed away the vomit and drying blood, and then stitched a few cuts up, terribly on purpose, Gavin assumed, before pouring a stinging antiseptic over everything. He took the knife from Gavin’s foot and dressed that wound too, instead pressing the blade of the knife into Gavin’s hand and making him hold it like that. 

“Ryan’s next,” he said simply, but Gavin could barely hear him over the buzzing in his head.

 

The skull masked mercenary was indeed next, and he immediately pulled the knife out of Gavin’s hand and reopened the wound. 

Gavin awoke with a start and a hiccup. This time his eyes had cleared a bit and he could see farther away in the room- the tinted window on the wall across from him and the two figures there. They were both shaded but he could clearly make out the cowboy hat on the shorter and how the taller was tugging at his tie.

Gavin hiccuped out a sob as Ryan moved around him. They were just  _ watching.  _ God, what had he done, why were they doing this- please, please!

“Please,” he kept repeating. “I’m sorry, I’m  _ sorry _ , please-”

Ryan took his left hand between his own and stared, as if he was waiting for something, but Gavin just kept begging. So Ryan took his thumb and pulled it back.

Gavin wailed as the mercenary continued breaking the fingers on his left hand, slowly and carefully. Gavin kept choking out his begs, pleading, sobbing. He didn’t understand. He didn’t  _ understand _ .

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered when Ryan moved onto his arm and shoulders and pressing against his pained ribs. “I’m sorry, please, please.”

Ryan left after he’d broken a few ribs and nearly his entire left arm. Jack came back and fixed a stint and didn’t bother with his hand or ribs. 

Gavin threw up again and passed out.

 

It continued for what felt like years, forever, an eternity. He just wanted to die. Why did they hate him so much? What had he  _ done _ to them?

Why wouldn’t they just kill him already?

  
  


The building shook with explosions as the crew began their rescue.

The door blasted open and four people were shot dead in an instant, Michael and Jeremy seething, their guns smoking. Ryan stood just behind, bloody and angry and the epitome of death itself. Geoff and Jack were last to enter.

“Where is he?” Geoff growled at the last remaining figure. 

The Corpirate laughed as he turned and gestured towards a door. Jeremy and Michael went running towards it, but the three gents’ focus remained on the enemy. 

“What have you done to him?” Geoff hissed. Corpirate only grinned, hands behind his back. 

Gavin’s scream echoed and all three of their heads turned in an instant towards the sound. Worry made it’s way through Ryan and he sprinted as they listened to Gavin beg and cry. 

“I’m sorry,” he was saying. “Please, just kill me, please- _ don’t touch me! _ ” He suddenly screeched, and Ryan backed out, looking shaken.

“What have you  _ done _ ?” Geoff hissed again, pressing forward.

“I haven’t done anything,” the Corpirate said calmly, and gestured towards the bodies on the ground. “You have.”

They turned and looked at the fallen men- each of them bore similar resemblances to the crew, and each of them were dressed the same. Geoff shook with rage and pushed the barrel of his pistol directly against the Corpirate’s forehead. “You fucking  _ bastard _ .”

“Kill me all you want,” the man laughed. “I’ve already won. Gavin will  _ never trust you _ again.”

The shot rang out in the room and the body slumped against the ground- but Geoff’s hand shook when he lowered his gun. Jack had his hand up to his mouth, tears running down his cheeks. Ryan and the remaining lads stood just outside the door to the room Gavin was in.

Geoff made his way over and watched from the doorway- watched the boy shake in a puddle of his own blood. Geoff slid down to sit on his heels and sobbed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “God, Gavin, I’m so, so sorry.”

Gavin shuddered and cried.

**Author's Note:**

> haha just kidding he's not dead but he might as well be!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> no tumblr link for this one because i feel like an asshole for writing it in the first place lmao


End file.
